


before chloe

by orphan_account



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6420043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca had always separated her life into two chapters; Before Chloe and After Chloe.</p><p>She much preferred After Chloe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. before chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca survives her vaguely fucked up life.

Before Chloe, Beca's life had been a mess. She was born months early and was forced to live in a machine at the hospital until she could stay alive on her own. Growing up, her father had been an abusive bastard who was in and out half the time and her mother had turned to alcohol to help her cope with her husband's abuse. Due to her parents negligence, Beca had taught herself many things - how to tie her shoes, how to make herself food, how to throw a frisbee, etc. - but the one thing her parents _did_ teach her was how to lower expectations.

It was her sixth birthday, and Beca had woken up to the sound of screaming. She watched helplessly from the safety of the stairs as her father screamed at her drunken mother.

At the time she hadn't known what "alcoholic," or "divorce," meant. What she did understand was that her parents were unhappy and it was probably her fault.

She had crawled back into her bed after that, the sound of her father slamming the door behind him echoing in her ears. She'd cried herself to sleep, wondering why she couldn't make her parents happy anymore.

The self hatred that had started to form in her at that age only grew as she did, resting in the pit of her stomach and making her a quiet, reserved girl. She didn't have many friends, choosing instead to stick by the side of a kind boy named Jesse who didn't seem to mind her silent actions or dark demeanor.

She'd found Jesse in sixth grade, and for that she was grateful. Jesse protected her - he was her mouthpiece, her way of communicating. If she didn't want to do something, he would sit out with her, and if she needed something to be said, he was right there. He didn't force her to talk, nor did he try to coax the words out of her. Sometimes he would do all the talking. Sometimes they would lay together on her bedroom floor, silently listening to her mother's nonsensical conversations with people nobody else could see.

She wasn't altogether silent, although she was noticeably more quiet than everyone else in her age group. She didn't talk to people she didn't know, and she didn't even acknowledge the ones she didn't like. It made her life simpler to keep her world whitelisted, only letting in the people she trusted. There was no point in talking to the others, she knew. They would just tease her or try to make her open up.

Jesse wasn't an idiot. He knew he couldn't help his friend any more than she wanted him to. So he did what any clueless 14 year old would do to help his friend. He turned to the internet.

In his extremely unprofessional opinion, Beca suffered from extreme social anxiety and was bordering on selective mutism. He'd shown her everything he'd found, and she'd just nodded and thanked him for not telling anyone. And when he was basically her only friend, the only one who cared about her, _really_ cared, how could he break her trust?

He had been the one to get her interested in mixing music. A few nights at his house watching YouTube videos of different artists and DJs touring around the world, and she had been hooked. Jesse had given her his father's old mixing board, and they'd quickly downloaded software and music for her to work with. She was amazing. She outshone Jesse after a single week holed up in her room with her laptop and mixer, and they could both see she had a talent.

By the time they were in eighth grade, along with the power of music, Beca had discovered the power of self harm. She'd stumbled upon a box of plastic razors in her mom's bathroom, and carefully brought them back to her room. It had taken a whole hour for her to figure out how to break the plastic shell off of the precious blade, but when she held the tiny scrap of metal between her fingers and sliced at her skin, she knew everything she'd gone through to get to the pain had been worth it.

She didn't tell Jesse about the cutting, though she didn't try too hard to hide it. He would find out eventually, she reasoned, and who cared? She trusted him. He was part of her world. So when he pulled up her sleeve and began to chastise, she didn't react.

Jesse had tried for two straight months to get her to stop, and when he realized she wouldn't be helped, he started to accept the fact that she liked the pain. He kept a first aid kit in his room for cleaning her cuts, and even went so far as to make one for her and show her how to use it. She thanked him quietly whenever he bandaged her arms, and he would always reply the same way.

"Thank you for not going too far."

The self harm had sustained her through her first few years of high school. It had kept the bullies' voices at bay, and kept the harsh words of her teachers away from her ears. There was a group of advisors who accepted her for who she was - a small, silent girl with a bodyguard who would do anything to protect her - and there was a group who kept trying to _fix_ her.

They had signed her up for the school therapist, and that was when Beca knew she had to get them to stop.

So she found a fake smile convincing enough to keep her out of therapy, and she began to use it throughout her school day. Jesse helped by becoming her fake boyfriend, every so often giving her a kiss on the cheek or a quick side hug. Beca had made it very clear that they were _fake_ dating, nothing more, and he had agreed.

He'd be lying if he said he never felt anything for the small brunette, but she'd quickly told him that she wasn't interested in men, and they'd moved on.

With college right around the corner, both Beca and Jesse were nervous. They'd been friends for seven years, and now the monster that was college was threatening to tear them apart. Until a godsend scholarship from Beca's father had arrived, and they'd packed their bags for Barden University.

Beca had ridden to Barden with him, mixing equipment thrown in a bag in the back of their taxi. He'd held her hand the entire way there, deflecting the driver's questions with simple answers and shakes of his head.

They arrived at Barden early, and Jesse had opted to help her unpack. He set up her equipment on her side of the dorm while she hung posters from the walls and threw her clothes on hangers,

"There's an activities fair." He had suggested when they were done setting up. "We could go meet people."

Beca shook her head, but Jesse wasn't going for it. "If you're gonna be at this college, you're gonna need more than one friend." He'd reasoned. "Come on, Becs. This could be really good for you."

She'd begrudgingly allowed him to lead her down to the commons (only after he'd promised to pay for pizza for the next two weeks) and she fell in step behind him as he searched through the clubs.

"Beca, look." He'd pointed towards a group of boys in posh looking clothes singing characteristically by the entrance. "Those are the Barden Treblemakers. They're the best a capella team in school."

Beca had grinned at his excitement. "You can go." She'd said quietly. "I'll be fine."

"Really?" Jesse glanced between her and the Trebles. "Okay, but just for a bit. Don't go too far, okay?"

Beca rolled her eyes and lightly shoved him towards the singers. "You're the best!" She'd heard him call as he jogged towards the singers.

She had glanced around nervously, eyes finally coming to a stop as she caught the gaze of a perky redhead. The girl smiled happily, turning to the taller blonde next to her.

"What about her?" Beca heard.

"I don't know. She looks a little… Alternative for our taste." The blonde replied.

Beca watched the redhead wave her over. She cautiously took a few steps towards their table.

"Hi!" The redhead greeted her excitedly. "I'm Chloe. Do you wanna join our a capella team?"

 


	2. after chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca finds happiness in a bubbly redhead.

Beca blinked. She'd forgotten that this - a capella - was something people actually cared about. Well, she knew Jesse had fallen in love with the singing sport since he'd first seen Pentatonix on YouTube, but she'd figured he was just a major nerd. She watched Chloe's eyes shift over her left shoulder, and turned to see Jesse running towards her excitedly.

"Man, they are, like, the _coolest_ people." Jesse beamed, then turned to the girls at the table. "Hi, I'm Jesse."

"Chloe." Chloe held out her hand towards him. "And this is Aubrey."

"We're the captains of the Barden Bellas." Aubrey commented.

"Cool." Jesse said. "I'm auditioning to become a Treble."

Aubrey scoffed and rolled her eyes, but Chloe just smiled. "Don't mind her." The redhead said, looking pointedly at her friend. "She believes the Trebles don't respect us."

Beca snorted quietly. Chloe turned back to the tiny brunette.

"So, do you want to join?"

Jesse looked at Beca, who shook her head quickly.

Chloe's face fell, and Beca wanted to melt at her look of disappointment.. "Oh, that's too bad." The redhead said sadly. "We could have really used your help."

Beca looked at Jesse frantically. He raised his eyebrows at her, confused. She looked pointedly at the crestfallen redhead before looking back to Jesse.

"One second." Jesse grabbed Beca's arm and pulled her a little away from the booth. "What?"

"Do something!" She hissed. "Make her feel better or something, I don't know."

"How am I supposed to do that?" He asked.

"I don't know, Jesse. Tell her one of your jokes or something."

"No, Beca, I will not tell her one of my jokes. I'm saving them for when I really need them."

Beca huffed in exasperation. "Just- do something!" She wiped at her eyes, surprised to find tears threatening to fall.

"Why are you so upset about this?" Jesse asked incredulously.

Beca whimpered in frustration. "She's sad, okay? It looks like someone just killed her new puppy. Just do something. Please?"

Jesse sighed. "Okay, this is important to you, so I'll do something. But you owe me."

Beca nodded and pushed him back towards the booth where the girls were watching in curiosity. Jesse thought fast - he hadn't had time to come up with an excuse for his friend's behavior.

"Uh, hey again." He spluttered, waving awkwardly at the two a capella captains. "We weren't talking about you…"

Beca facepalmed from behind him.

"Just, uh…" Jesse quickly grabbed the first idea he thought of. "My friend was wondering if you would like to go out with her."

Beca's hand dropped from her forehead.

_What._

"Really?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah." Jesse turned and shot Beca an apologetic look. It was too late to go back now.

"What's your friend's name?" Chloe asked curiously, examining the brunette.

"Beca." Jesse answered, relieved that Chloe didn't seem to be disgusted. "Beca Mitchell."

"Beca?" Chloe called. "Can you come here?"

Beca nervously shuffled a few feet forward, shooting Jesse a death glare.

"You want to go out with me?" Chloe asked. Beca stayed still, hoping Chloe would interpret her silence as whatever the correct answer to this situation would be.

Aubrey voiced the question they were all thinking. "Chloe, are you really thinking about this?"

"Shh, Bree." Chloe held up a finger to silence her friend. Beca started to squirm under the intense gaze of the beautiful redhead. So far, college was not going the way she thought it would be.

Chloe finally snapped out of her thoughtful haze, looking up. She didn't look at Aubrey or Jesse, instead looking directly at Beca herself.

"Okay, I'll do it." Chloe smiled happily. "Tomorrow at seven. Wear something nice."

And so Beca found herself digging through her dresser the next day, stopping every once in awhile to glare at Jesse, who had been chatting aimlessly from her desk the entire time.

"I'm so glad this entire thing worked out." He said. "Luckily she doesn't think you're a creep or anything, so that's good. Plus her friend was totally hot. I might have to get you to do some scouting for me if this works out."

Beca rolled her eyes at her best friend.

"Which it totally will. I mean, she seemed pretty interested yesterday. Hell, she stared at you for, like, five minutes. And clearly you don't have a problem with any of this, which is good, because even if she doesn't want to date you, she can still be your friend, and you do kind of need more of those."

Beca kicked Jesse's chair to get him to shut up before holding up the clothes she'd found - a blue long sleeve button up with a pair of ultraskinny black jeans.

"Ooh, hot." He commented. "Brings out your eyes. I bet Chloe's one of those girls who really goes for eyes. Not to mention your boobs look great in that shirt."

Beca kicked her friend's chair again, and he raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Go change, weirdo. You have, like, half an hour."

Beca nodded and slipped into the bathroom, quickly changing clothes before starting on her usual mess of dark eye makeup and light lipstick. She brushed through her hair gently, letting it fall in chocolate brown curls over her shoulders. Once she was satisfied that there were no visible cuts, she stepped out of the bathroom.

Jesse whistled playfully. The brunette slapped his arm lightly, and he recoiled in faux pain.

There was a confident knock at Beca's door, and she spun, nervously wringing her hands together as she approached the door. She opened it to reveal Chloe, dressed in a dark red dress that stopped mid-thigh. Her hair was pinned up into a complicated bun, and her lips were painted to match her dress.

"You look beautiful." Beca murmured, then blushed.

Chloe beamed at her. "You do too. And it's nice to hear your voice."

Beca heard a snicker from behind her. She turned to glare at Jesse, who simply waved.

"Hi Chloe. Have fun, Becs."

Beca rolled her eyes and stepped out of her dorm, closing the door behind her.

"You ready to go?" Chloe asked.

Beca nodded, following Chloe down the hall.

Much to Beca's surprise, the date went amazingly well. Chloe didn't pressure her into speaking, nor was she perturbed by her date's lack of socialization skills. The redhead carried the conversation, much to Beca's happiness and relief. The brunette was surprised when Chloe insisted on walking her back to her dorm, and even more surprised when the redhead asked for a second date.

Much to Chloe's delight (and Jesse's amusement) Beca had agreed wholeheartedly to the second date. And the third, and the fourth, until there were too many to count. A few dates quickly built into a serious relationship, and pretty soon Chloe was asking her to stay the night, which was a problem for two reasons.

First, Beca had literally no experience. Zero. None. Sure, she and Chloe had kissed a few times, but she'd never done, or even _thought of_ doing anything beyond that.

Second, she still had scars. Not just emotional scars, but literal, physical scars. Scars that Chloe had yet to see. She wasn't really sure how to prepare Chloe for everything she'd been through. Not like she could just walk up to her girlfriend and say "Hey Chlo, guess what? The reason I'm so awkward and socially distant is because of my alcoholic mother and deadbeat father who was in and out half the time. Also, I have scars and no romantic or sexual experience. Wanna watch a movie?"

She had stopped cutting since arriving at Barden, and for that both she and Jesse were grateful. But she couldn't exactly get rid of the hundreds of faded white lines running across her upper arms and stomach. She'd done extensive research into scar removal, and almost every website agreed that once scars were more than five months old, it was impossible to remove them without surgery.

She didn't know how to bring it up, so she didn't. She continued to wear long sleeves and avoid crop tops, and so far it had been working. She decided to procrastinate until the subject brought itself forward.

Which it did, a few days later.

"Hey." Chloe had welcomed the small brunette into her apartment. "So, I was wondering something."

Beca sat down on Chloe's couch wordlessly, but nodded for her to continue.

"You always wear long sleeves, and I've been trying not to ask about it, but I know there's something you're not telling me."

Beca froze, staring straight ahead from her place on the couch. She slowly moved her head to look at her girlfriend, eyes fearful.

"Becs, I have a pretty good idea of what it is. And I'm not gonna get mad, or break up with you. Okay?" Chloe knelt by her girlfriend. "Just trust me?"

Beca slowly nodded, and Chloe began to pull her sleeve up. When there was no trace of damage on her wrist, she raised her eyes curiously to look into Beca's.

"Higher." Beca mumbled, and Chloe pulled until the sleeve was almost at the brunette's elbow. The scars were fully visible now, the light lines contrasting with her pale skin.

"Honey." Chloe wrapped her arms around the petite girl. "Why would you ever do this to yourself?"

Beca shrugged.

"Words, Becs. I know you have them." Chloe said, releasing her girlfriend's sleeve and taking her hands instead.

"I don't know." Beca mumbled. "It felt good. That's all."

"Do you still-" Chloe started, but Beca cut her off with a hurried "No."

"How long has it been?" Chloe asked.

Beca shrugged again. "I haven't since I came here. Since, you know, since I met you."

Chloe nodded thoughtfully, but stayed quiet.

And for once, Beca decided to speak up.

"I was born four months early." She started. "I had to live in NICU until I could breathe on my own."

"You don't have to tell me, Beca."

"Yes, I do." Beca closed her eyes. "When I finally came home, dad wasn't around much. He always came home late and left early. Mom took care of me for the most part, until I was six.

"Dad was always yelling at her about dumb things. One time he got home too late and his food was cold. He slapped her, hard, and she fell and hit her head on the side of the table. I watched the whole thing from the top of the stairs. I was five. After that, mom started to drink. I didn't really understand it, so I didn't try to stop her. But dad didn't like it. He said she was weak for turning to alcohol. On my sixth birthday, I woke up early. Dad was screaming at mom. She was drunk, I think, and he didn't like it. He told her he had been seeing someone else, and that he wanted a divorce. And she laughed and said 'over my dead body.'"

Chloe squeezed Beca's hands tighter, bracing herself for what was coming.

"He beat her down. Worse than he ever had before. He said he could take anything whenever he wanted it, including a divorce. He said he loved his other girl, Shelia, more than he'd ever loved either of us."

Tears had started to fall down Beca's cheeks, running over her lips and dripping off her chin, but she continued.

"He left a few minutes after she passed out. And I always thought it was my fault. That the reason he left was because I wasn't a good enough daughter for him. And that it was my fault.

"I met Jesse in sixth grade, and he was immediately my best friend. My only friend. He didn't care that I didn't like talking, 'cause he talked enough for the both of us. And he didn't care that my mom was how she was. He didn't mind staying in my room when he came over, and he let me stay at his house for days on end when mom went through one of her bad spells. He never tried to fix me, though he did try to help me for a little. And he did. He helped me understand what was going on."

Chloe nodded, watching Beca struggle to find the words to explain herself.

"He gave me his dad's old mixer. He used to joke that I'd be famous someday and he'd be my wingman. He said he'd follow me all the way to LA to help me achieve my dream. He even sent in a few demos. But then eighth grade came, and it was _so_ much harder than everything else. I was bullied, and Jesse couldn't always be there to protect me, though he did try. So I started doing this." Beca gestured to the scars, self consciously watching Chloe's face for any signs of disgust.

"Beca." Chloe whispered. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

Beca shook her head. "Don't be. Because you know what happened after that?"

Chloe raised her eyebrows curiously.

"After that, I met you." Beca whispered. "And I can't lie and say that things immediately got better, because they didn't. And I can't say I fell in love with you at first sight, because I didn't. And I can't promise that things with me won't get hard sometimes. And if you're too freaked out by all of this, I can't make you stay."

Chloe shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Beca, you are amazing." The redhead began. "You're funny and sweet, and you make me feel _so_ special."

Beca sniffed quietly as Chloe continued.

"And I can't say I understand, because I don't." Chloe said truthfully. "But I also can't believe I got lucky enough to meet you. And I can't believe you trust me enough to share everything. And I love how small you are, because you are the perfect height for me to do this."

Chloe stood up, pulling the brunette along with her. She leaned in carefully, pressing her lips softly against her girlfriend's. They stayed like that until they ran out of breath and had to pull away.

"I couldn't be happier right now." Chloe confessed.

"I can't imagine life without you." Beca mumbled.

"Good." Chloe hugged her girlfriend tightly. "Because you shouldn't have to."

And Beca just closed her eyes and let herself be happy.


End file.
